《英國衛報》(The Guardian)屬英國較為激進的報紙,但質量極高。
此文不是社評,作者John Glaser
也屬於激進人士,憤青,自然在美國不是主流。不過話說的中肯,無所謂主流不主流。這是他在《英國衛報》上的專欄:
The problem isn’t China’s rise, but rather America’s insistence on maintaining military and economic dominance right in China’s backyard不代表美國主流,如同奧巴馬三番五次強調,“我們美國人就是第一”,更難以被美國媒體大眾和精英政要理解。
此文被廣泛引用。《華爾街日報》網文Washington Playing ‘Whack-a-Mole’ in South China Sea, Says Ex-U.S. Official
此文提到的是布萊爾Dennis C. Blair,奧巴馬的前任國家情報局主任(Director of National Intelligence),因與奧巴馬意見相左而(被迫)辭職。之前布萊爾是美國太平洋戰區總司令,也是高層內人。布萊爾反對和中國衝突。
中國在關鍵技術還是很薄弱,許多關鍵
中國製造2025”頂級領導機構即將組建
2015.06.04
中國工程院院士倪光南:發展中國自主操作係統應傾舉國之力
近期,網上一則非洲最流行的手機來自中國的消息,引發網友熱議。雖則如此,中國工程院院士倪光南還是表達了擔憂,國產手機做的非常出色,但有一個巨大的軟肋,那就是缺乏一個自主可控的移動操作係統。昨晚在出席國產化操作係統及其產業在國防科技領域的應用論壇時,他還強調,發展中國自主操作係統應傾舉國之力,發揚兩彈一星和載人航天精神。
對於國產手機的持續火爆,倪光南認為,雖然國產手機做的非常出色,但有一個巨大的軟肋,那就是缺乏一個自主可控的移動操作係統,同時他還解釋,智能終端操作係統具有高度的壟斷性,而目前這塊被穀歌、微軟和蘋果三家壟斷。
對於中國自主操作係統,倪光南表示,要解決技術受製於人的問題,應著眼國家安全和長遠發展,召集有關部門和單位積極製定信息核心技術設備的戰略規劃。目前國內從事操作係統開發的有十幾家企業,各自為戰,不能形成合力;對知識產權風險未作充分評估。
中國工程院院士倪光南
麵對如此狀況,倪光南強調,發展中國自主操作係統應傾舉國之力,應當發揚兩彈一星和載人航天精神。加大自主創新力度,發揮我國能集中力量辦大事的優勢,傾舉國之力實現智能終端自主操作係統從無到有的突破。
此外,倪光南還認為很多企業在安卓上做定製,既是低水平重複,又做不到自主可控。中國智能終端操作係統產業聯盟正是在這種背景下成立的。聯盟接受中央網絡安全和信息化領導小組辦公室與工業和信息化部的指導,目前已有以中國電科集團為首、包括“產學研用”各界的百餘個成員單位,通過整合資源,協同創新,積極推進包括移動操作係統和桌麵操作係統在內的中國智能終端操作係統的發展。
倪光南最後還強調,操作係統是信息領域生態係統的核心,操作係統提供者可以輕易地獲取用戶的許多敏感信息。在大數據時代,數以億計的用戶信息很容易被分析處理,無論是個人層麵還是國家層麵,可以說沒有任何秘密可言。
聯邦調查局反恐記
有線電視(CNN)的報道:
Authorities: Three men attempted to join ISIS, had ambitious plans
法庭記錄
The Sting
How the FBI Created a Terrorist
By Trevor Aaronson 03/16/2015
IN THE VIDEO, Sami Osmakac is tall and gaunt, with jutting cheekbones and a scraggly beard. He sits cross-legged on the maroon carpet of the hotel room, wearing white cotton socks and pants that rise up his legs to reveal his thin, pale ankles. An AK-47 leans against the closet door behind him. What appears to be a suicide vest is strapped to his body. In his right hand is a pistol.
“Recording,” says an unseen man behind the camera.
“This video is to all the Muslim youth and to all the Muslims worldwide,” Osmakac says, looking straight into the lens. “This is a call to the truth. It is the call to help and aid in the party of Allah … and pay him back for every sister that has been raped and every brother that has been tortured and raped.”
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Osmakac in his “martyrdom video.” (YouTube)
The recording goes on for about eight minutes. Osmakac says he’ll avenge the deaths of Muslims in Afghanistan, Iraq, Pakistan and elsewhere. He refers to Americans as kuffar, an Arabic term for nonbelievers. “Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth,” he says. “Woman for a woman, child for a child.”
Osmakac was 25 years old on January 7, 2012, when he filmed what the FBI and the U.S. Department of Justice would later call a “martyrdom video.” He was also broke and struggling with mental illness.
After recording this video in a rundown Days Inn in Tampa, Florida, Osmakac prepared to deliver what he thought was a car bomb to a popular Irish bar. According to the government, Osmakac was a dangerous, lone-wolf terrorist who would have bombed the Tampa bar, then headed to a local casino where he would have taken hostages, before finally detonating his suicide vest once police arrived.
But if Osmakac was a terrorist, he was only one in his troubled mind and in the minds of ambitious federal agents. The government could not provide any evidence that he had connections to international terrorists. He didn’t have his own weapons. He didn’t even have enough money to replace the dead battery in his beat-up, green 1994 Honda Accord.
Osmakac was the target of an elaborately orchestrated FBI sting that involved a paid informant, as well as FBI agents and support staff working on the setup for more than three months. The FBI provided all of the weapons seen in Osmakac’s martyrdom video. The bureau also gave Osmakac the car bomb he allegedly planned to detonate, and even money for a taxi so he could get to where the FBI needed him to go. Osmakac was a deeply disturbed young man, according to several of the psychiatrists and psychologists who examined him before trial. He became a “terrorist” only after the FBI provided the means, opportunity and final prodding necessary to make him one.
Since the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the FBI has arrested dozens of young men like Osmakac in controversial counterterrorism stings. One recent case involved a rudderless 20-year-old in Cincinnati, Ohio, named Christopher Cornell, who conspired with an FBI informant — seeking “favorable treatment” for his own “criminal exposure” — in a harebrained plot to build pipe bombs and attack Capitol Hill. And just last month, on February 25, the FBI arrested and charged two Brooklyn men for plotting, with the aid of a paid informant, to travel to Syria and join the Islamic State. The likelihood that the men would have stepped foot in Syria of their own accord seems low; only after they met the informant, who helped with travel applications and other hurdles, did their planning take shape.
Informant-led sting operations are central to the FBI’s counterterrorism program. Of 08 defendants prosecuted in federal terrorism-related cases in the decade after 9/11, 243 were involved with an FBI informant, while 158 were the targets of sting operations. Of those cases, an informant or FBI undercover operative led 49 defendants in their terrorism plots, similar to the way Osmakac was led in his.
In these cases, the FBI says paid informants and undercover agents are foiling attacks before they occur. But the evidence suggests — and a recent Human Rights Watch report on the subject illustrates — that the FBI isn’t always nabbing would-be terrorists so much as setting up mentally ill or economically desperate people to commit crimes they could never have accomplished on their own.
At least in Osmakac’s case, FBI agents seem to agree with that criticism, though they never intended for that admission to become public. In the Osmakac sting, the undercover FBI agent went by the pseudonym “Amir Jones.” He’s the guy behind the camera in Osmakac’s martyrdom video. Amir, posing as a dealer who could provide weapons, wore a hidden recording device throughout the sting.
The device picked up conversations, including, apparently, back at the FBI’s Tampa Field Office, a gated compound beneath the flight path of Tampa International Airport, among agents and employees who assumed their words were private and protected. These unintentional recordings offer an exclusive look inside an FBI counterterrorism sting, and suggest that, even in the eyes of the FBI agents involved, these sting targets aren’t always the threatening figures they are made out to be.
ON JANUARY 7, 2012, after the martyrdom video was recorded, Amir and others poked fun at Osmakac and the little movie the FBI had helped him produce.
“When he was putting stuff on, he acted like he was nervous,” one of the speakers tells Amir. “He kept backing away …”
“Yeah,” Amir agrees.
“He looked nervous on the camera,” someone else adds.
“Yeah, he got excited. I think he got excited when he saw the stuff,” Amir says, referring to the weapons that were laid out on the hotel bed.
“Oh, yeah, you could tell,” yet another person chimes in. “He was all like, like a, like a six-year-old in a toy store.”
In other recorded conservations, Richard Worms, the FBI squad supervisor, describes Osmakac as a “retarded fool” who doesn’t have “a pot to piss in.” The agents talk about the prosecutors’ eagerness for a “Hollywood ending” for their sting. They refer to Osmakac’s targets as “wishy-washy,” and his terrorist ambitions as a “pipe-dream scenario.” The transcripts show FBI agents struggled to put $500 in Osmakac’s hands so he could make a down payment on the weapons — something the Justice Department insisted on to demonstrate Osmakac’s capacity for and commitment to terrorism.
“The money represents he’s willing to do it, because if we can’t show him killing, we can show him giving money,” FBI Special Agent Taylor Reed explains in one conversation.
These transcripts were never supposed to be revealed in their entirety. The government argued that their release could harm the U.S. government by revealing “law enforcement investigative strategy and methods.” U.S. Magistrate Judge Anthony E. Porcelli not only sealed the transcripts, but also placed them under a protective order.
The files, provided by a confidential source to The Intercept in partnership with the Investigative Fund, provide a rare behind-the-scenes account of an FBI counterterrorism sting, revealing how federal agents leveraged their relationship with a paid informant and plotted for months to turn the hapless Sami Osmakac into a terrorist. Neither the FBI Tampa Field Office nor FBI headquarters in Washington, D.C. responded to requests from The Intercept for comment on the Osmakac case or the remarks made by FBI agents and employees about the sting.
Osmakac as a boy. (Photo courtesy of the Osmakac family)
SAMI OSMAKAC WAS 13 years old when he came to the United States with his family. Fleeing violence in Kosovo in 1992, they had first traveled to Germany, where they stayed until 2000, when they were granted entrance to the U.S. He was the youngest of eight children, and he and his older brother Avni struggled at first to adapt to a new land, a new language and a new culture.
“We came to Tampa, and at first we lived in this really bad neighborhood,” Avni recalls, wearing blue jeans, spotless white Nikes and a white New York Yankees Starter cap. “It was tough, but as we learned the language, things got easier. We adapted.”
The Osmakac family opened a popular bakery in St. Petersburg, across the bay from Tampa. They were Muslim, but they rarely attended the mosque. They didn’t usually fast during Ramadan, and Sami’s sisters did not cover their hair. Growing up, Sami wasn’t particularly drawn to Islam either, according to his family. He suffered the concerns many young men in the United States do, like getting a job and saving up for a car.
In July 2009, one of Sami’s older brothers had returned to Kosovo to get married, and just before Sami was to fly to the Balkans with his brother Avni for the wedding, he had a terrible dream. “An angel grabbed me by the face and pushed me into the hellfire,” he would later tell a psychologist. At the wedding, Avni took a photograph of Sami; he’s clean-shaven and wearing a pressed white suit. He looks happy. On the flight back from the wedding, during the final leg of the journey to Tampa, the plane Sami and his brother were on hit turbulence, losing altitude quickly. “I thought we were going to crash,” Avni remembers. Sami looked horrified.
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Osmakac in 2009. (Photo courtesy of Osmakac family)
That’s when something changed in him, according to his family and mental health expertshired by both the government and the defense. Osmakac began to isolate himself from his siblings and attend the mosque frequently. He spoke of dreams about killing himself, and chastised family members for being more concerned about this life than what comes after.
In December 2009, Osmakac met a red-bearded Muslim named Russell Dennison at a local mosque. Dennison, who was American-born, was described by Osmakac as a “revert.” Muslims believe that all people are born with an understanding of the unity of Allah, so when a non-Muslim embraces Islam, some Muslims refer to this as reversion rather than conversion. Dennison went by the chosen name Abdullah; he says in a YouTube video that after being introduced to Islam, his faith grew stronger during a prison term in Pennsylvania. Osmakac’s dress changed after he met Dennison. Whereas he had once saved his money to buy nice shoes and Starter caps, he suddenly began to dress like Dennison, according to family members — cutting his pants high at the ankle, buying cheap plastic sandals and sometimes wearing a keffiyeh on his head. He refused to cut his beard, which he struggled to grow with any thickness, and he wouldn’t wear deodorant that contained alcohol.
It wasn’t just his physical appearance that was changing; by the beginning of 2010, his family also believed he was deteriorating mentally. He’d become paranoid and delusional. His skin was pale. He was sleeping on the floor of his bedroom and complained about nightmares in which he burned in hell. He stopped working at the family bakery because they served pork products. Near the end of the year, his family repeatedly asked him to see a doctor. He rebuffed them, saying that the doctors would want to kill him. (Osmakac later told a psychiatrist he in fact “was scared to go to a mental home.”
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Russell Dennison (YouTube)
Meanwhile, Osmakac’s friendship intensified with the red-bearded revert. Dennison, whose videos on YouTube are posted under the username “Chekdamize7,” frequently preached about Islam and ranted about the corruption of nonbelievers. Osmakac’s family believed that Dennison encouraged his extreme views, often recruiting him to make videos. Among their efforts was a two-part series in which they argued combatively about religion with Christians they confronted on the sidewalk.
Over the next year, Osmakac, who was without steady employment, established a reputation as a firebrand in the local Muslim community. He was kicked out of two mosques, and lashed out at local Muslim leaders in a YouTube video, calling them kuffar and infidels. In March 2011, Osmakac made his way to Turkey, in the hopes of traveling by land to Saudi Arabia, according to his brother. He’d been told that holy water from Mecca was a cure-all, Avni says — that if he drank it, the nightmares would cease. But Osmakac never got much farther than Istanbul, after encountering multiple transportation mishaps, and getting turned away at the Syrian border by officials who refused to let him cross without a visa. He quickly ran out of money, lost his will and called home for help. His family in Tampa helped purchase a plane ticket for him to return to Florida.
Osmakac would later tell several mental health professionals that he was in fact more interested in traveling to Afghanistan or Iraq to fight American troops, and perhaps even find a bride there. “If I got to Afghanistan or Iraq, someone would marry me to their daughter,” he mentioned to one psychologist. Osmakac got back in touch with Dennison in Florida, and would talk often of returning to a Muslim land so he could marry.
Osmakac’s altercation with Keffer, April 16, 2011. (YouTube)
ON APRIL 16, 2011, Osmakac was outside of a Lady Gaga concert in Tampa. Larry Keffer, a Christian street preacher with short-cropped brown hair and a thick, white beard, was outside the concert as well. Keffer was wearing a fishing hat, a green camouflage shirt and blue pants.
“Sin is a slippery slope,” Keffer yelled through a megaphone to the Lady Gaga fans as someone else recorded the demonstration.
Most of the crowd ignored Keffer. A few concertgoers taunted him. He taunted them back. A police officer directing traffic refused to acknowledge the demonstration, while Keffer ranted about Lady Gaga and the devil. Osmakac finally confronted Keffer, pointing his finger in the preacher’s face.
“You infidel, I know the Bible better than you,” Osmakac told the preacher.
“What’s your message?” Keffer replied, talking into the megaphone.
“My message is, if y’all don’t accept Islam, y’all going to hell,” Osmakac said.
The men continued to provoke each other as people milled into the concert venue.
“Go have yourself a bacon sandwich,” Keffer told Osmakac.
“You infidel,” Osmakac said. “You infidel.”
As the argument escalated, Osmakac charged one of Keffer’s fellow demonstrators and head-butted him, bloodying the man’s mouth and breaking a dental cap. He then charged Keffer. Each wrapped his arms around the other, turning and twisting, until they broke free. The police officer managing traffic charged Osmakac with battery, giving him notice to appear in court. Osmakac was later arrested after failing to show up, Avni says, and his family had to bail him out; in just a few months’ time, Osmakac’s red-bearded friend would lead him straight into an FBI trap.
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SAMI OSMAKAC AND Russell Dennison lived in Pinellas County, across the bay from Tampa. In September 2011, Dennison told Osmakac he knew a guy who ran a Middle Eastern market in Tampa. They should go see him, Dennison suggested. To this day, Osmakac doesn’t know why Dennison suggested this, or why he agreed to accompany him on the 45-minute drive to the store, called Java Village, near the Busch Gardens theme park.
When they arrived, Dennison introduced Osmakac to the owner, Abdul Raouf Dabus, a Palestinian. Dabus had flyers in his store promoting democracy, and he and Osmakac argued about the subject, with Osmakac contending that democracy and Islam were incompatible.
“Democracy makes the forbidden legal and the legal forbidden, and that’s greater infidelity,” Osmakac would tell Dabus. “Whoever enforces it is an infidel, is a Satan. Hamas is Satan. Muslim Brotherhood is Satan … If you don’t accept that God is the only legislator, then you become a polytheist, and that’s why I’m telling you.”
Osmakac didn’t know that Dabus would become an FBI informant. His work for the government has until now been secret.
According to the government’s version of events, Osmakac asked Dabus if he had Al Qaeda flags, or black banners. Osmakac disputes this, saying he never asked anyone for Al Qaeda flags.
Whatever the truth, the sting had just begun.
A psychologist appointed by the court later diagnosed Osmakac with schizoaffective disorder.
“He asked me if he can work a couple of hours, working and other stuff,” Dabus said in a phone interview from Gaza, where he now lives. “But it wasn’t really like a job. So basically, he was helping whenever he comes. And he got paid.” Dabus acknowledged he was paying Osmakac as the FBI was paying him.
In Tampa’s Muslim community, Dabus is well known. A former University of Mississippi math professor, Dabus was an associate of Sami Al-Arian, the University of South Florida professor who was indicted for allegedly providing material support to the Palestinian Islamic Jihad, in a case prosecutors argued proved successful intelligence-gathering under the Patriot Act. Dabus had worked at the Islamic Academy of Florida, an elementary and secondary private school for Muslims that Al-Arian had helped to found in Temple Terrace, a suburb of Tampa.
Dabus was among the witnesses in the Al-Arian trial, and his testimony was damaging to the government’s case. He testified that he had known Al-Arian only to raise money for charitable purposes, not for violence. During cross-examination, Dabus told the defense that he feared that Al-Arian’s trial meant Palestinians in the United States could no longer speak openly about the occupied territories. “There is no longer any security for the dog that barks in this country,” Dabus said.
He also questioned whether Al-Arian’s indictment suggested Muslims had become a new target for the U.S. government. “Our kids, will they have a future here?” he asked. “I don’t know.”
While Al-Arian would continue to battle federal prosecutors, living under house arrest in Virginia until finally agreeing to deportation to Turkey this year, Dabus remained in Tampa, active in the local religious and business community. But he acquired a reputation during this time for running up debts. From 2005 to 2012, he faced foreclosure actions on his home and businesses, as well as breach-of-contract and small-claims cases. In fact, when Dabus met Osmakac, he was in rough financial straits, records show. In July 2011, the bank holding the mortgage on his business’s building was granted approval to sell the property through foreclosure; Dabus owed $779,447.
It’s unclear why Dabus became an FBI informant, or for how long he worked with the government. He says he was doing his civic duty in reporting Osmakac and the young man’s interest in acquiring weapons, and had not previously worked with the FBI, though an FBI affidavit in the Osmakac case described Dabus as having “provided reliable information in the past.” Money is a common motivator for FBI counterterrorism informants, who can earn $100,000 or more on a single case. Dabus estimates the FBI paid him $20,000 for his role in the Osmakac sting, though insists money did not motivate him.
On November 30, 2011, after Osmakac had begun working for Dabus, the two drove around the Tampa area together as Dabus secretly recorded their conversation for the FBI. Osmakac asked if Dabus could help him obtain guns and an explosive belt. However, transcripts suggest he was also having trouble separating reality from fantasy. “In the dream, I was shown that everywhere you go, everything you do, hush your mouth,” Osmakac says. “Don’t say nothing. So, yes, the dream is real. Allah showed me that dream for a reason. And he’s also protected me for a reason.”
A psychologist appointed by the court later diagnosed Osmakac with schizoaffective disorder.
Osmakac and undercover FBI agent “Amir Jones.” (YouTube)
ABOUT THREE WEEKS after this conversation, on instructions from the FBI, Dabus introduced Osmakac to “Amir Jones,” an undercover agent. He might be able to help Osmakac obtain weapons, Dabus told him.
“What are you looking for, so that I know if it’s something I can get you or not?” Amir asks Osmakac.
“I’m looking for, even if … one AK, at least,” Osmakac says.
“OK.”
“And maybe a couple of Uzi, ’cause they’re better to hide.”
“OK. OK.”
“If you can get the long extension like for the AK and the Uzi, the long magazines—”
“They’re called banana magazine,” Amir says. “OK.”
“And … couple of grenades, 10 grenades minimum, if you can,” Osmakac says.
“Now, and that’s it?” Amir asks.
“And a [explosive] belt.”
For all Osmakac’s talk, the FBI’s undercover videos suggest he was less a hardened terrorist and more a comic book villain. While driving around Tampa with Amir, a hidden FBI camera near the dashboard, Osmakac described a plot to bomb simultaneously the several large bridges that span Tampa Bay.
“That’s five bridges, man,” Osmakac says. “All you need is five more people …. This would crush everything, man. They would have no more food coming in. Nobody would have work. These people would commit suicide!”
Amir Jones, behind the wheel of the car, offered a hearty laugh.
BACK AMONG FEDERAL law enforcement agents, according to the secret transcripts of their private conversations, there were plenty of reasons to joke at Osmakac’s expense. FBI employees talked about how Osmakac didn’t have any money, how he thought the U.S. spy satellites were watching him, and how he had no concept of what weapons cost on the black market.
The source of their amusement was also their primary source of concern. Osmakac was, in the FBI’s own words, “a retarded fool” who didn’t have any capacity to plan and execute an attack on his own. That was a challenge for the FBI.
“Once [the source] gives it to him, it’s his money, whether we orchestrated it or not.”
– Special Agent Taylor Reed
“Part of the problem is they want to catch him in the act,” FBI Special Agent Steve Dixon says, referring to federal prosecutors. “The attorneys do and stuff, but the problem is you can’t show up at a nightclub with an AK-47, in the middle of a nightclub, and pretend to start shooting people, or I mean people —”
“Right,” another speaker interrupts.
“— would get killed, just a stampede, just to get away from him,” Dixon finishes.
In constructing the sting, FBI agents were in communication with prosecutors at the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the Middle District of Florida, the transcripts show. The prosecutors needed the FBI to show Osmakac giving Amir Jones money for the weapons. Over several conversations, the FBI agents struggled to create a situation that would allow the penniless Osmakac to hand cash to the undercover agent.
“How do we come up with enough money for them to pay for everything?” asks FBI Special Agent Taylor Reed in one recording.
“Right now, we have money issues,” Amir admits in a separate conversation.
Their advantage was that Dabus, the informant, had given Osmakac a job. If they could get Dabus to pay Osmakac, and then make sure Osmakac used his paycheck to make a payment toward the weapons, the agents could satisfy the Justice Department. “Once he gives it to him, it’s his money, whether we orchestrated it or not,” Reed says.
In conversations about this plan, FBI agents refer to Dabus as the “source,” short for confidential human source. “Jake” is FBI Special Agent Jacob Collins, who transcripts indicate worked closely with Dabus.
“The source has to tell him, ‘Hey, listen! You are gonna have to give [Amir] the three hundred bucks,’” says Richard Worms, the squad supervisor. “And that’s something Jake has the source tell him. ‘And I’ll take care of the rest … and here’s three hundred of my money for you.’ Is that something you accept?”
“That’s a feasible scenario,” Amir Jones answers.
“That’s what you’re going to do,” Worms says. “That way, the source has to be coached what to do.”
In order to avoid being vulnerable to entrapment claims, the FBI agents didn’t want their money being used to purchase their weapons in the sting. So they laundered the money through Dabus. In an interview, Dabus implicitly confirmed that arrangement, describing the $20,000 he estimates he received from the FBI as a mix of expenses and compensation.
“It also shows good intent,” Worms says of giving Osmakac the money, according to the transcripts. “He was willing to cough up almost his entire paycheck to get this thing going.”
“That does look really good,” concurs FBI Special Agent Taylor Reed.
Osmakac and Amir at a Days Inn in Tampa on January 7, 2012. (YouTube)
AMIR AND OSMAKAC arranged to meet at a Days Inn in Tampa on January 7, 2012. The FBI had the room wired with two cameras, a color one facing the headboard and a black-and-white one looking over the bed and toward the closet door, in front of which Osmakac would film his martyrdom video. Just as the FBI had orchestrated, Osmakac provided the cash to Amir as a down payment on the weapons.
The hotel surveillance video starts at 8:38 p.m. Osmakac is kneeling down on the floor and praying. He then stands and greets Amir, who has laid out the weapons on the bed. There are six grenades, a fully automatic AK-47 with magazines, a handgun and an explosive belt. Outside, a vehicle-borne improvised explosive device is assembled in the bed of Amir’s truck. None of the guns or explosives was functional, but Osmakac didn’t know that.
“You know, they saying they like three trillion in debt, they like 200 trillion in debt,” Osmakac had said, describing their plot. “And after all this money they’re spending for Homeland Security and all this, this is gonna be crushing them.”
Amir shows Osmakac the weapons one by one. He demonstrates how to reload the guns, and how to arm and throw the grenades, as Osmakac had never received weapons training.
“This one’s fully automatic,” Amir says, as Osmakac holds the AK-47.
Osmakac then slips on the suicide vest, as Amir showed him, and sits down in front of the closet, where he’ll record his video. Amir is seated in a chair facing Osmakac, holding the digital camera out in front of him.
The FBI was making a movie — all the agents needed was, in their words, a “Hollywood ending.” Osmakac would give them that final scene.
Osmakac had settled on an Irish bar, MacDinton’s, as his target. The supposed plan, which Osmakac dreamed up with Amir, was for Osmakac to detonate the bomb outside the bar, and then unleash a second attack at the Seminole Hard Rock Hotel & Casino in Tampa, before finally detonating his explosive vest once the cops surrounded him.
But that didn’t happen. Instead, FBI agents arrested him in the hotel parking lot. He was charged with attempting to use a weapon of mass destruction — a weapon the FBI had assembled just for him.
After the arrest, according to the sealed transcripts, the FBI agents intended to celebrate their efforts over beers.
“The case agent usually buys,” one of the FBI employees is recorded as saying. Another adds: “That’s true — the case agent usually pops for everybody.”
Osmakac loading the fake car bomb with Amir. (YouTube)
HOW OSMAKAC CAME to the attention of law enforcement in the first place is still unclear. In a December 2012 Senate floor speech, Dianne Feinstein, chairwoman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, cited Osmakac’s case as one of nine that demonstrated the effectiveness of surveillance under the FISA Amendments Act. Senate legal counsel later walked back those comments, saying they were misconstrued. Osmakac is among terrorism defendants who were subjected to some sort of FISA surveillance, according to court records, but whether he was under individual surveillance or identified through bulk collection is unknown. Discovery material referenced in a defense motion included a surveillance log coversheet with the description, “CT-GLOBAL EXTREMIST INSPIRED.”
If he first came onto the FBI’s radar as a result of eavesdropping, then it’s plausible that as part of the sting, the FBI manufactured another explanation for his targeting. This is a long-running, if controversial process known as “parallel construction,” which has also been used by the U.S. Drug Enforcement Administration when drug offenders are identified through bulk collection and then prosecuted for drug crimes.
In court records, the FBI maintained that Osmakac came to agents’ attention through Dabus. The informant reached out to the FBI after meeting Osmakac, and soon offered him a job at Java Village.
At trial starting in May 2014, Osmakac’s lawyer, George Tragos, argued that the Kosovar-American was a young man suffering from mental illness, who had been entrapped by government agents.
A difficult defense to raise, entrapment requires not only that the government create the circumstances under which a crime may be committed, but also that the defendant not be “predisposed” toward the crime’s execution. “This entire case is like a Hollywood script,” Tragos told the jury, pointing out that the central piece of evidence was that Osmakac used government money to buy government weapons.
A psychologist retained by the defense, Valerie McClain, testified that Osmakac’s psychotic episodes, along with other mental health issues, made him especially easy for the government to manipulate. “When I talked to him most recently, he was still delusional,” McClain testified. “He still believed he could become a martyr.” Six mental health professionals examined Osmakac before his trial. Two hired by the defense and two appointed by the court diagnosed Osmakac with psychotic disorder or schizoaffective disorder. The pair hired by the prosecution said Osmakac suffered from milder mental problems, including depression and difficulty adapting to U.S. culture.
Tragos wasn’t able to tell the jury that FBI agents might have agreed with McClain’s assessment of Osmakac. The transcripts of the accidentally recorded conversations among FBI agents weren’t allowed into evidence, but after the trial, District Judge Mary S. Scriven did agree to unseal a number of them, which were heavily redacted by the government before being entered into the court file.
Prosecutors relied on the undercover FBI recordings and Osmakac’s own words to convict him. They played for the jury Osmakac’s so-called martyrdom video. They showed footage of Amir slipping over Osmakac’s shoulder the strap for the AK-47. They filled the courtroom with exchange after exchange of Osmakac’s hateful and violent rhetoric. Prosecutors played up Osmakac’s most ridiculous remarks, including his desire to bomb simultaneously the bridges that cross Tampa Bay. “The most powerful thing you can see are the defendant’s own words. His intent was to commit a violent act in America,” prosecutor Sara Sweeney told the jury.
Following a six-hour deliberation, jurors convicted Osmakac of possessing an unregistered AK-47 and attempting to use a weapon of mass destruction. In November 2014, he was sentenced to 40 years in federal prison.
“I wanted to go and study the religion … hoping that Allah is gonna cure me one day from the evil inside that I used to believe. But the doctors are saying it’s not evil — it’s mental illness.”
– Sami Osmakac
Entrapment has been argued in at least 12 trials following counterterrorism stings, and the defense has never been successful. Neither Abdul Raouf Dabus nor Russell Dennison testified in or provided depositions for Osmakac’s trial.
The government couldn’t produce Dabus, the FBI’s informant, because he had traveled to Gaza and Tel Aviv, where he says he was receiving treatment for cancer. He says his involvement with the FBI was limited to the Osmakac case — to reporting a suspicious man who was asking about Al Qaeda flags. Dabus disputes the FBI’s claim in court records that he was known to provide reliable information in the past.
“I did my job with them. I went away, and it is over,” Dabus says. “But I do not regret, and I would never regret to call again.”
Before Dabus left the country, the bank was granted approval to sell his Tampa home through foreclosure. His family owed $302,669, or about $50,000 more than the house was worth. Java Village is now shuttered. The signs are still on the outside of the building. Inside, the shelves are knocked over. Canned and dry goods litter the floor. Two dogs now guard the property.
Dennison, the red-bearded man who introduced Osmakac to Dabus, remains a mystery. He left the area shortly after Osmakac’s arrest, and emails he sent in late 2012 to a mutual friend he shared with Osmakac suggest he was fighting in Syria.
Osmakac’s family suspects much of Dennison’s story is a lie, and that he was, and likely still is, working with government agents. How else could Dennison have so conveniently delivered Osmakac to Dabus?
Confidential FBI reports on Dennison, copies of which were provided to The Intercept, do not address whether he’s been linked to a government agency. But the reports suggest the red-bearded man had a peculiar knack for becoming friendly with targets of FBI stings. After Osmakac’s arrest, FBI Special Agents Jacob Collins and Steve Dixon interviewed Dennison at Tampa International Airport, according to one report. Dennison was headed to Detroit, and from there, he said he hoped to go to Jordan to teach English. Dennison described how he was in contact with Abu Khalid Abdul-Latif, whose real name is Joseph Anthony Davis, a 36-year-old Seattle man who, like Osmakac, was troubled and financially struggling, lured by a paid informant into an FBI counterterrorism sting in June 2011. Abdul-Latif is serving 18 years for his crime.
Osmakac is now in USP Allenwood, a high-security prison north of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.
“I was manipulated by [the FBI],” Osmakac says in a phone call from prison. He says he only wanted to move to a Muslim country, where he hoped to find a wife. Instead, he says, Dabus and the FBI exploited his mental problems and pushed him in different direction.
“I wanted to go and study the religion and get married, have children, just have nothing to do with this Western world,” Osmakac says. “I wanted to study Arabic and the religion in depth, hoping that Allah is gonna cure me one day from the evil inside that I used to believe. But the doctors are saying it’s not evil — it’s mental illness.”
Osmakac’s family is trying to raise money for an appeal.
“If my brother was truly part of a plot to kill people, I’d be the first one in line to condemn him,” Osmakac’s brother Avni says. “But my brother was mentally ill. We were trying to get him help. The FBI got to him first.”
This story was reported in partnership with the Investigative Fund at The Nation Institute.
Illustration by Jon Proctor for The Intercept
《紐約時報》
Boston Muslims Struggle to Wrest Image of Islam From Terrorists
BOSTON — Yusufi Vali was hunched over his computer at this city’s biggest mosque, where he is executive director, when the first phone call came. The police had killed a man a few miles away. Soon there were reports that the man was a Muslim who had been under investigation for terrorism.
And so the news media inquiries began. More than 100 calls came to the mosque over the next few days. Mr. Vali would explain, over and over, that the young man fatally shot after pulling a knife on the police on June 2 had only the slightest connection to the mosque: He had been hired by a security contractor to guard the mosque during the holy month of Ramadan in 2013.
No, he was not a regular at prayers. No, Mr. Vali did not recall meeting him. No, he could not shed light on any reported plan to behead a police officer, except to say that such a thing would be abhorrent.
Continue reading the main story
“It weighs on you,” Mr. Vali, a rail-slender 31-year-old Princeton graduate, said of the fallout from the latest allegations of terrorist plotting in the name of Islam. “I don’t have control over what these people do. It’s frustrating to have it put on us.”
Men gathered for Friday Prayer at the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center
To be Muslim in America today means to be held responsible, or to fear you may be, for the brutal acts of others whose notion of what Allah demands is utterly antithetical to your own. For the diverse crowd that prays at the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center, where professors at nearby universities mix with freshly arrived immigrants from Somalia and Egypt, it means hearing the word “Islamic” first thing each morning in news reports on an infamous extremist group. It means a kind of implied collective responsibility, however illogical, for beheadings in Syria, executions in Iraq and bombs in Boston.
For the estimated 70,000 Muslims in the city and suburbs, there are particular pressures. For more than two years, since the bombing near the finish line of the Boston Marathon, the city has been transfixed by the tragedy’s aftermath. For more than six years, a tiny organization with an anodyne name, Americans for Peace and Tolerance, has publicly claimed in newspaper ads and web postings that Boston’s Muslim institutions are led by extremists and terrorist sympathizers.
And in some mosques, tensions have played out between conservatives, some with deep roots in the Middle East, and more liberal worshipers. The former imam at the Boston center, William Suhaib Webb, who moved to Washington last year, recalled that after a sermon expressing a tolerant view of what Islam allows, a congregant told him bluntly: “You’re not a Muslim.”
On the grounds of the Boston center, a soaring mosque with a minaret and red-brick construction meant to honor New England tradition, work is underway to turn an abandoned swimming pool into a formal Islamic-style garden. It was to be called the “Terrace Garden,” until some jaw-dropping reactions showed that some people thought they were hearing “terrorist garden.” The project was quietly renamed “Paradise Garden.”
News arrived recently that a 57-year-old man in Iowa had been arrested after posting obscene and threatening notes, one including a photograph of a rifle, on the mosque’s Facebook page. Then people began to stop by the office to show Mr. Vali fliers someone had slid under the doors of neighboring houses in the Roxbury neighborhood, citing the Americans for Peace and Tolerance claims and denouncing the mosque for “extremist leadership.”
Mr. Vali, who is close to several local rabbis and ministers and whose only evident fanaticism is for the Kansas City Royals, took to the public address system before Friday Prayer to call on congregants to ignore the bait. “Let’s kill them with kindness,” he said of the mosque’s critics.
He said he and his staff, who are guiding a search for a new imam, were determined not to be distracted from the mosque’s mission — to build a home for a distinctly American Islam, one that models community service, tolerance and compassion.
The Obama administration, worried about the recruiting of young Americans by Islamic State extremists, chose Boston last fall as one of three cities for a Countering Violent Extremism pilot program. The idea is to brainstorm ways to combat recruitment by all militants, including antigovernment groups and white supremacists. But the plan has divided Muslims in Boston and the other two cities, Minneapolis and Los Angeles.
Mr. Vali’s mosque is among those that have opted out of the federal program, saying that however well intentioned it is, they believe it will further stigmatize Muslims.
“There is obviously an ideology that exists that’s horrific,” Mr. Vali said. But he said he had not encountered violent militancy in his congregation and believed it would be a mistake “to gear everything around extremism.”
Rather than lecturing young people about terrorism, he said, he wants them learning genuine Islamic principles in a new youth program and in joint projects with churches and synagogues.
Some Muslim activists have decided to go along with the federal effort. Nabeel Khudairi, 53, an optometrist in the Boston suburb of Norwood, is already creating a program to encourage young Muslims to look for genuine heroes and convince them that they “should not go to YouTube University and not listen to Imam Google.”
Hafsa Salim, a human resources manager, waited outside the Islamic Society of Boston Cultural Center for a shuttle to take her youngest daughter Nura to school
Participating in the federal project “is getting on a ship before it sails,” Mr. Khudairi said. “Otherwise you’re standing on shore, watching it go.”
Unlike Minneapolis, Boston has not experienced the departure of dozens of young people for militant groups like the Shabab, in Somalia, and the Islamic State, also known as ISIS or ISIL. But over the years, a growing list of Muslim extremists and terrorists has emerged from the city.
Most notorious are the Tsarnaev brothers, who committed the marathon bombing. But there are others:
■ Ahmad Abousamra, 33 if he is still alive, grew up in suburban Boston. His father was an endocrinologist at Massachusetts General Hospital and president of the Islamic Center of New England. He fled to Syria in 2007 after coming under F.B.I. scrutiny and last year joined the Islamic State’s prolific English-language social media operation in Syria, officials believe. In late May, the Iraqi military announced that he had been killed in an airstrike; American officials have not confirmed his death.
■ Tarek Mehanna, another suburbanite in his early 30s, who was charged in 2009 with Mr. Abousamra but did not flee. He was convicted of supporting Al Qaeda and other charges, and is serving a 17-year federal sentence.
■ Rezwan Ferdaus, 29, grew up in the outer suburb of Ashland and earned a physics degree at Northeastern University. He was sentenced in 2012 to 17 years for plotting to fly explosives-laden model planes into the Capitol and the Pentagon and other crimes.
■ Aafia Siddiqui, 43, who earned a Ph.D. in neuroscience at Brandeis and became an outspoken Muslim activist. She later joined Al Qaeda and in 2008, in custody in Afghanistan, was accused of shooting at American soldiers. She was sentenced in 2010 to 86 years.
■ Abdurahman Alamoudi, 63, a founder of the Islamic Society of Boston, parent organization to Mr. Vali’s mosque, who in 2004 was sentenced to 23 years for joining a bizarre Libyan plot to kill the Saudi crown prince and other charges.
They are among more than a dozen people featured in a rogues’ gallery of former Bostonians featured in advertisements and online writings of Americans for Peace and Tolerance. The group’s founder is Charles Jacobs, 71, a former business consultant who spent years combating contemporary slavery in Africa before focusing on what he sees as a new form of anti-Semitism, fueled by Islamic extremism and hostility to Israel.
The accumulation of Boston malefactors makes for a disturbing list, especially if it is now updated with Usaamah Rahim, the man killed by the police this month, and two other men who were charged Friday with plotting with him and supporting the Islamic State. The Boston Globe was prompted last week to ask in a headline, “Are Boston terrorism cases a trend?”
Mr. Jacobs blames what he believes to be the radical leadership of area mosques, including the Islamic Society of Boston. He points to the fact that devotees of the Muslim Brotherhood, the conservative Islamist organization with branches and allies across the Middle East, were involved in founding the society more than three decades ago. The Muslim American Society, whose Boston branch operates Mr. Vali’s mosque, has been accused of links to the Brotherhood; it insists any ties are historical and have no relevance.
“We think and say and write that the vast majority of Muslims in Boston and America are moderates who would never do anyone any harm,” Mr. Jacobs said. “We think the I.S.B. leadership are hiding behind the general Muslim population.”
Abdul Cader Asmal, left, a retired physician, and Nabeel Khudairi, an optometrist, outside the Islamic Center of New England in Sharon, Mass. Dr. Asmal said that Islam must find a way to “excommunicate” extremists
His assertions have been rejected by Boston’s leading rabbis and the United States attorney, Carmen Ortiz, who said she found the group’s claims “incredibly racist and unfair.”
A closer look at extremists who have come from Boston finds little evidence that they were radicalized at local mosques. For example, the authorities believe the Chechen brothers responsible for the bombing at the marathon got their ideas largely online; the older brother, Tamerlan Tsarnaev, was thrown out of the Islamic Society of Boston’s Cambridge mosque after a strident outburst.
Still, to talk privately with a range of Boston-area Muslims is to hear a more subtle story about the battle over Islamic ideology. One Pakistani-American, who did not want to be identified for fear of becoming a target of anger, said he believed Muslim Brotherhood loyalists in Boston still met secretly and had a pernicious influence on some young people. But he said he did not believe these “hard-liners,” as he called them, supported terrorism.
Talal Eid, 63, a liberal imam who was ousted from his longtime position at a suburban Boston mosque in a factional fight in 2005, said he believed the city’s mosques should operate more democratically. But he said the ideological tensions had no relationship to violence.
“Muslims all over are very good people, working hard, living their lives,” he said. “In Boston, when you talk about terrorists, you can count them on the fingers of one hand. It’s not even one in 10,000.”
But while the numbers may be small, the consequences for American Muslims of each reported plot or act of religiously motivated violence are incalculable.
Some Boston Muslims believe Islam itself faces a grave, perhaps existential danger from the association with terror.
Mr. Webb, the imam who served at Mr. Vali’s mosque from 2010 to 2014, has been denounced on the Internet for his liberal views. A onetime gang member and hip-hop D.J. from a Christian family, he said he himself had espoused deeply conservative views after converting to Islam and changed only gradually.
After the Islamic State beheadings of journalists last year, Mr. Webb delivered a striking sermon. “In America, no religious community has been beaten up or slapped around in the last 13 years like us,” he said.
But he added: “Within our ranks, we have people who openly say they want to kill Americans, they would like to see the destruction of America.” Mr. Webb said Muslims did not like to talk about the few who embrace violence. “But if we continue to ignore these problems, they’ll never be answered,” he said.
The same sense of danger to Islam was expressed by an older member of the Boston community, Abdul Cader Asmal, 76, a retired physician and longtime leader in area mosques. He recalled watching Tarek Mehanna and Ahmad Abousamra grow up, and expressed puzzlement that one had ended up in prison and the other with ISIS.
“This is painful for us,” Dr. Asmal said. Islam, he said, must find a way to “excommunicate” extremists.
“If it doesn’t take a drastic stance against terrorism,” Dr. Asmal added, “its credibility as a force for good will be lost.”
《紐約時報》
To Reel In Crowds, a Museum Is Showing a Fake Painting
By WILLIAM GRIMESOCT. 31, 2014
The 19th-century artist James E. Buttersworth, although a titan in the field of marine art, cannot be described as famous. Prized for his exquisitely detailed portraits of racing yachts and clipper ships, he remains unknown to the general public and therefore has limited drawing power.
To overcome this obstacle, the Mariners’ Museum in Newport News, Va., hit on a novel solution for its new exhibition of his work: Toss in a forgery and challenge museum visitors to sniff it out from among the 34 genuine Buttersworth works.
About that ringer: Museums and forgeries are natural enemies, and officials at the Mariners’ Museum tiptoed warily around their idea for quite some time before committing to it.
“The museum couldn’t be seen spending money on this and putting it in the collection,” said Lyles Forbes, the museum’s chief curator and the organizer of “B Is for Buttersworth, F Is for Forgery: Solve a Maritime Mystery,” which opened on Saturday.
When it came down to it, he added, he was not even sure how to acquire a forgery.
At this point, help arrived from a man who has agreed to identify himself only as “a friend of the museum.” (Because his name appears as a lender on the wall text of the forged painting, providing it here might give away the secret to visitors).
The friend took on the assignment of securing a forged Buttersworth, which proved to be relatively easy, since, when it comes to bogus Buttersworths, nearly all roads lead to one man: Ken Perenyi.
For years, Mr. Perenyi studied and imitated the work of Buttersworth, turning a tidy profit by selling his paintings to unsuspecting dealers and collectors. He is not shy about this. Visitors who click on his website are greeted with the words “Welcome to America’s No. 1 Art Forger Website.” He has chronicled his buccaneering days of turning out bogus Buttersworths and Martin Johnson Heades, his mainstays, in “Caveat Emptor: The Secret Life of an American Art Forger,” published two years ago.
Mr. Perenyi now plies his trade openly and legally (though he is still on the F.B.I.'s radar). The friend of the museum acquired, through an intermediary, a genuine ersatz Buttersworth, from Mr. Perenyi’s stock on hand, for about 5 to 10 percent of the price that the painting might fetch if it were authentic.
A small Buttersworth in good condition might sell for $30,000, said Alan Granby, who, with Janice Hyland, runs Hyland Granby Antiques in Hyannis Port, Mass, which usually has several Buttersworths for sale. The much rarer large paintings, especially those depicting America’s Cup races, can go for more than $1 million. Mr. Perenyi said that his prices range from $5,000 to $150,000.
The museum has made a point of not mentioning Mr. Perenyi, who said he did not know until a reporter approached him that his work was in its current show. “We did not want to lend any legitimacy to the forger or be seen as promoting him in any way,” Mr. Forbes said.
On entering the exhibition, visitors approach a high-resolution digital image of “Magic and Gracie off Castle Garden,” an 1871 Butterworth that shows two yachts, sails taut in the wind, racing neck and neck in New York Harbor. On a nearby television screen, a photo of Buttersworth pops up, and “hot spots,” activated with the touch of a finger, explain the fine points: the signature, size, background features, sky and weather, seas and sea gulls, composition and meticulous detailing of the ships.
Visitors, prompted by clues in the wall texts, then try to identify the lone forgery. At two voting booths, they can test their suspicions by entering the number of the suspected forgery on touch screens that tell them whether they are right or wrong and offer to give them the correct answer. Then the honor system applies. Those in the know are asked not to give away the secret.
Mr. Forbes invited Colette Loll, the founder and director of the consulting firm Art Fraud Insights, to write wall texts explaining the difference between fakes and forgeries: Fakes replicate an existing work, while forgeries masquerade as new or unknown work.
Mr. Perenyi has been a burr under her saddle for quite some time. “He seems to have no remorse for diluting the body of work of an artist he professes to admire with all the forgeries he has inserted into the market,” she said. “If you fess up, but do not provide the specifics, the forgeries are still out there in circulation.”
Mr. Perenyi is more than happy to explain the techniques required to fake a Buttersworth, which he does crisply and authoritatively. If the circumstances were different, you could imagine him delivering a splendid lecture at the museum.
Over the telephone, he held forth enthusiastically on Buttersworth’s hallmarks: the favored New York settings; the play of light on clouds and water, reflecting the influence of the Luminist painters; the love of dramatic contrasts in the sky; and the painstaking attention to detail, with the stitching on canvas sails depicted in lines as fine as a human hair.
“Hardest of all is the unique way he painted water, " Mr. Perenyi said. “He did not follow the tried and true technique that British artists developed for waves and water. He rolls or twists his brush in his fingers as he pulls it along, to get ribbons of highlights.”
Close study and constant practice, Mr. Perenyi said, have made him the equal of his master. “If he could come back to life, he would shake my hand,” he said. “After all, I devoted 30 years to understanding him. He would say, ‘I would be proud to put my name on it myself.”
The forgery aside, the exhibition draws heavily on its own substantial collection of Buttersworths, augmented by loans from other museums and by a collection of 16 paintings recently donated by Janet Schaefer, a collector in Stonington, Conn.
All eyes will be searching for the non-Buttersworth, however. The painting returns to the friend of the museum when the exhibition closes on April 26, at which point, the friend said, “I’ll probably put it in my office as a conversation piece.”
As for Mr. Perenyi, he declared himself well pleased to be included in the Mariners’ Museum exhibition. " I take it as a great compliment,” he said, “and a testament to the museum’s good taste.”
《華爾街日報》
U.S. Is Awash in Glut of Scrap Materials
A strong dollar, slowing Chinese economy cut into demand abroad for salvaged metal and paper
Scrapper Bob ‘Hoop’ Hooper was making as much as $400 a day selling scrap just three years ago. ‘Now I’m doing $100 to $200,’ he says
James R. Hagerty and Bob Tita
Updated June 7, 2015
American companies have complained for the past year that the headwinds of a strong dollar and a slowing Chinese economy are hurting their earnings.
For sellers of scrap metal, used cardboard boxes, and other waste, those headwinds are more like a hurricane.
Waste has long been a major U.S. export, providing material to be melted in foreign steel mills or made into new paper products. But the strength of the dollar has made American waste pricier abroad, cutting demand in China, Turkey and other markets.
U.S. exports of scrap materials have fallen by 36% since peaking at $32.6 billion 2011. Prices of shredded scrap steel have plunged about 18% so far this year and are down 41% since early 2012, according data collected by the Platts unit of McGraw Hill Financial -0.45 The dollar is up about 17% since last July against a basket of major currencies compiled by the Federal Reserve.
That has been hard on the network of waste dealers and scrap gatherers who are the backbone of the industry.
Bob Hooper, who goes by Hoop, finds discarded metal on curbs and in dumpsters around Pittsburgh and carries it to scrapyards in a rusting Chevy pickup with a bungee cord to keep the driver’s door shut. He was making as much as $400 a day selling scrap just three years ago, he said. “Now I’m doing $100 to $200.”
Or less. On a recent day, he hauled in more than 1,000 pounds of scrap, including two discarded refrigerators, a water heater and a broken microwave buried in egg shells and other moist trash. After gasoline expenses, he netted about $80.
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Turkey, whose steel mills are big users of scrap, has been buying less from the U.S. and more from Russia, Ukraine and other places with weaker currencies. Meanwhile, U.S. steel production has fallen in response to more imports, so American producers are buying less scrap.
Demand for old paper and boxes also is down in the U.S. The average price for used corrugated cardboard has fallen 27% in the past year to $77 a ton, according to Pulp & Paper Week.
The recent labor dispute at West Coast ports disrupted exports, forcing buyers like China to find other sources and creating a glut in the U.S.
Waste and scrap remains a big business. Last year it accounted for 1.3% of U.S. exports, about the same as meat and poultry, and bigger than either corn or computers. The industry directly employs about 149,000 people, according to the Institute of Scrap Recycling Industries, a trade group. That doesn’t count self-employed people like Mr. Hooper.
On a recent day, Mr. Hooper hauled in more than 1,000 pounds of scrap, including two discarded refrigerators, a water heater and a broken microwave. After expenses, he netted about $80
After a steep drop in scrap prices earlier this year, “things seem to have stabilized a little,” said Joe Pickard, economist for the trade group. But the outlook hinges on a pickup in global manufacturing, which is currently sluggish.
When China was booming, scrap dealers focused heavily on that market. Ships that carried furniture and other household goods from China to California returned stuffed with old metal and boxes ready to be converted into new products. That traffic has slowed.
“Clearly, it’s been a great run for a number of years,” said Alan Dick, president of Los Angeles-based Alpert & Alpert Iron & Metal Inc. As demand from China wanes, he hopes Vietnam, Thailand and Malaysia will buy more U.S. scrap. Combined they might provide enough demand to keep his 85-year-old company alive for another generation, he said.
Warren Rosenfeld, president of Calbag Metals Co., a scrap metals dealer in Portland, Ore., said he fears a long-term decline in the U.S. scrap industry. As people in China buy and wear out more cars and refrigerators, they create a larger supply of domestic scrap, he said, reducing the need for imports from the U.S.
Another worry for scrap-metals dealers is that new cars contain less steel these days as manufacturers reduce vehicle weights to improve fuel economy, said Randy Castriota, owner of Castriota Metals & Recycling in Pittsburgh. Cars also stay longer on the road—and out of the scrap pool.
Mr. Castriota, who employs about 30 people, had to lay off four a few months ago. A shortage of truck drivers has forced him to pay more to haul scrap to his customers. Insurance costs are up, too.
One beneficiary of lower scrap prices is Nucor Corp. -0.74 , the largest U.S. steelmaker, which makes most of its steel from melted scrap rather than iron ore. Chief Executive John Ferriola told investors recently that profit margins for scrap processors have been severely compressed, adding, “We expect to see some people not making it through this very difficult time.”
Nucor, he said, may take advantage of the downturn by acquiring distressed scrap-processing businesses. “We won’t be shy,” he said. “We’ll be at the table.”
Falling prices also threaten the paper-recycling business, some dealers said.
Joel Litman, co-owner of Texas Recycling/Surplus Inc. in Dallas, worries that “prices can get so low that you can’t even cover your processing costs.” Texas Recycling collects high-grade waste paper from various businesses and sells the material to dealers for use in tissue paper, paper towels and other paper products used by restaurants and the food service industry.
With the current glut, he said, “there’s just a lot of paper out there that cannot get consumed fast enough.”
《紐約時報》
U.S. Shifts Stance on Drug Pricing in Pacific Trade Pact Talks, Document Reveals
By JONATHAN WEISMANJUNE 10, 2015
WASHINGTON — Facing resistance from Pacific trading partners, the Obama administration is no longer demanding protection for pharmaceutical prices under the 12-nation Trans-Pacific Partnership, according to a newly leaked section of the proposed trade accord.
But American negotiators are still pressing participating governments to open the process that sets reimbursement rates for drugs and medical devices. Public health professionals, generic-drug makers and activists opposed to the trade deal, which is still being negotiated, contend that it will empower big pharmaceutical firms to command higher reimbursement rates in the United States and abroad, at the expense of consumers.
“It was very clear to everyone except the U.S. that the initial proposal wasn’t about transparency. It was about getting market access for the pharmaceutical industry by giving them greater access to and influence over decision-making processes around pricing and reimbursement,” said Deborah Gleeson, a lecturer at the School of Psychology and Public Health at La Trobe University in Australia. And even though the section, known as the transparency annex, has been toned down, she said, “I think it’s a shame that the annex is still being considered at all for the T.P.P.”
The annex, which covers pharmaceutical and medical devices, is the latest document obtained by The New York Times in collaboration with the watchdog group WikiLeaks, and it was released before the House vote on whether to give President Obama expanded powers to complete the Trans-Pacific Partnership. The Senate has already approved legislation giving the president trade promotion authority, or fast-track power that would allow him to complete trade deals without the threat of amendments or a filibuster in Congress. A House vote on final passage of the bill, now expected on Friday, appears extremely close.
The Pacific accord, would link countries stretching from Canada and Chile to Japan and Australia in a new set of trade rules that would cover 40 percent of the global economy.
Opponents of both the Pacific deal and the legislation to grant trade promotion authority have long targeted the pharmaceutical issue. Foreign governments and health care activists have accused pharmaceutical giants, mostly based in the United States, of protecting profits over public health, especially in poor countries where neither the government nor consumers can afford to pay rates anywhere close to those charged in wealthier nations.
That fight re-emerged in the Pacific trade negotiations, which involve countries with strong cost-containment policies, like New Zealand, as well as poor countries like Peru and Vietnam.
The agreement “will increase the cost of medicines worldwide, starting with the 12 countries that are negotiating the Trans-Pacific Partnership,” said Judit Rius Sanjuan, a lawyer at Doctors Without Borders, a humanitarian organization that provides medical care in more than 60 countries.
Drug companies, however, say they need to be able to charge fair prices to compensate for the billions of dollars and decades of research that go into their medicines.
Jay Taylor, vice president for international affairs for Pharmaceutical Research and Manufacturers of America, said penetrating the opaque process for getting a drug considered for a national health system, then listed as available and properly priced, is central to free trade for drug makers. “It is market access,” he said.
That is particularly true for the Pacific accord, he said, because one of the countries, New Zealand, has a powerful system for holding down drug costs — and keeping drug makers in the dark. New Zealand’s health system has been held up as a model for the Pacific region, a prospect the pharmaceutical industry does not relish.
“There are no clear timelines for review, no sense of what a complete dossier is to get a fair review,” Mr. Taylor said. “It’s a question of basic due process.”
Negotiators from the United States appear to be pushing a similar agenda in separate negotiations with the European Union, according to a copy of an internal European report viewed on Wednesday by The New York Times.
The report, dated May 8 and written by the European Commission, said of the status of talks with the United States on a planned Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership, also known as T.T.I.P., “The U.S. reiterated its interest to include transparency provisions on pricing and reimbursement within the T.T.I.P. similar to the ones E.U. and U.S. have with Korea.”
The report was made available by a person who shared the information on the condition of anonymity.
The European Commission has said that the pharmaceutical aspects of trade talks with the United States focus mostly on simplifying inspections and making it easier to approve and develop new medicines, insisting that the “fear E.U. governments would lose their right to decide” drug costs was unfounded.
Pharmaceutical firms and their trade associations have filed by far more lobbying disclosure forms on the Pacific trade negotiations than any other industry, according to the watchdog Sunlight Foundation. More broadly, the pharmaceutical and health product industries have been the biggest spenders on lobbying, and drug company deal-making with the Obama administration and in Congress was instrumental in securing passage of the Affordable Care Act.
Public health professionals say pharmaceutical industry lobbying is meant to diminish the power of government health programs that trim reimbursement rates to global pharmaceutical giants. The newly leaked annex, dated Dec. 17, 2014, lists Medicare and the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services as falling under its strictures.
That may embolden critics.
“The leak is just the latest glaring example of why fast-tracking the T.P.P. would undermine the health of Americans and the other countries and cost our government more, all to the benefit of pharma’s profits,” said Lori Wallach, director of Public Citizen’s Global Trade Watch and one of the most prominent voices in the coalition working to scuttle trade promotion authority.
Officials at the United States trade representative’s office, while declining to comment on a leak they would not acknowledge, said rules in the Pacific accord would have no impact on the United States because Medicare already adhered to them. The trade representative’s office helped develop the proposals.
“Already, transparency and procedural fairness are integral parts of the U.S. legal system and as such are principles reflected in U.S. trade agreements,” the representative’s office said in a statement.
While the current draft may fall short of what pharmaceutical companies wanted, it also offers them new opportunities to challenge the decisions of trading partners on which drugs they will offer their citizens through government health care programs and the rates at which they will reimburse drug sellers.
A version of the Trans-Pacific Partnership annex that was leaked in 2011 made explicit reference to “competitive market-derived prices,” promising drug companies the chance to appeal rates they deemed insufficient. Those are gone, “a victory for the non-U.S. partners to some extent,” Ms. Gleeson said.
But Pacific accord negotiators appear ready to grant pharmaceutical and medical device makers more power to influence participating governments. The 12 countries involved, and any others that might join later, would have to disclose rules and guidelines for deciding which medical products would be made available through government programs and at what rate providers would be reimbursed.
In the United States, pharmaceutical companies and Medicare have fought for years over which drugs are listed for reimbursement, especially when Medicare lists generic drugs over name brands. While advocates of the trade deal, including Mr. Obama, say opening markets to competition should lower prices for consumers, generic-drug makers say the Trans-Pacific Trade Partnership could raise costs instead.
Heather Bresch, the chief executive of Mylan, one of the largest generic-drug makers, said the brand-name pharmaceutical industry was “establishing, through U.S. trade policy, an international system designed to maximize its monopolies.”
By listing the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the annex makes it clear the United States would not be immune to T.P.P. rules. Japan, Australia and New Zealand may not have drug companies as powerful as those in the United States, but under the accord, American subsidiaries in Pacific trade partners could use the accord’s dispute-resolution process against perceived violations by Medicare.
It also suggests that disputes over pharmaceutical listing would not be subject to government-to-government dispute resolution, the World Trade Organization and retaliatory tariffs.
Instead, trade lawyers say, disputes would most likely be resolved through the Investor-State Dispute Settlement process, which involves three-lawyer extrajudicial tribunals organized under rules set by the United Nations or the World Bank.
That could be significant for current Medicare practices, said Peter Maybarduk of Public Citizen’s Global Access to Medicines project, and also could hinder efforts to lower costs by changing federal law to allow the government to negotiate prices directly with drug makers.
Officials at the trade representative’s office say those concerns are unfounded.
“The transparency annex in T.P.P. is not subject to Investor-State Dispute Settlement, and nothing in its provisions will undermine our ability to pursue the best health care policy for Americans, including any future action on health care expenditures and cost containment,” a trade representative spokesman said.
世界都被中國山寨光了
以前見到過一些兒童讀物,翻譯的的占絕大多數。當時就覺得很失落。因素多了,國外教育領先,兒童教育效果是現成的,不買白不買,買了版權,出了書, 國內買的家庭多了。銷售量好,書商自然輕視國內作品,而國內大家都忙著賺錢,哪顧得寫有質量的兒童書籍啊,抄了都不聲明,買版權算是守規矩的了。
中國服務業貿易常常是逆差,娛樂產品(像電影、電視劇、電視節目、書籍之類)都在內,貢獻大了。中國政府還管製得嚴,話不讓隨便說,買些搞笑的,唱歌跳舞之類的,
2015.06.10
《鈦媒體》外國版權都被買光了,未來中國綜藝模式怎麽走?
日前,在上海電視節聯合世熙創立的首屆“中國模式日”論壇上,世界前十的綜藝模式製造和發行公司全部來華,與國內同行熱烈討論了如何才能製造有中國特色的、具有“互聯網+”的模式節目。
話題一,講中國故事
2014 年中國播出的節目模式總數達63檔,當年新引進節目模式就達35檔……據悉,這三四年間,由於瘋狂爭購外國模式,其價格在中國猛增了數十倍。對此,國內電 視人不無擔憂地認為,中國人幾乎用盡了國際電視業花30年研發的所有成功模式。引進已經走到盡頭,現在是認真考慮如何研發中國原創節目並推出模式的關口 了。如何將海外模式本土化成了重中之重。
浙江衛視俞杭英以《中國夢想秀》為例,認為中國版更重視故事性,概念上重視節目中的打動人的因 素。這些對於中國觀眾來說有吸引力的東西,他們在節目本土化改造中就會加強表現。此外,俞杭英以當下最熱的《奔跑吧,兄弟》為例,認為“中國元素”的加入 是一個很重要的原因。在“跑男”的節目遊戲設計中,他們會結合國人熟悉的元素,比如“老鷹抓小雞”,借此可以拉進與觀眾的距離。
在SMG節目模式研發博士後高級研發員馬忠君看來,
目前階段,韓國模式之所以能在中國大行其道,是因為這些節目的本土化暗合了中國人的情感邏輯,家庭裏麵的事,社會裏麵的事,兒女情長的事。歐美這些模式也可能會有適合的方麵,隻不過我們在本土化歐美節目模式的過程中,目前還沒有找到一個比較好的方式。
BBCW 模式構思總監凱特·菲利普則表示,“在進行本土化時我們會參考當地的書籍、電視來做出相應調整,主持人、明星選擇等也會按照當地觀眾的口味來選擇,我們還 會邀請不同國家的製片人來英國交流經驗,所以購買模式不單單隻是一次交易,更是構建了一個國際性的關係網”。製作公司ALL3Media高級副總裁薩布麗 娜·德奎特則表示,不同的國家有不同的禁忌,比如在法國,醫療診斷是禁止上電視的,其公司製作的醫療節目就在法國做出了相應的調整。
有趣的是,搜狐視頻製作總監王一提到,很多模式商很愛惜自己的羽毛,很多“模式”進入中國,“本地化”是一個非常重要的問題,因為這還關係到如何說服原始的模式商,“讓他能夠允許我們對他的模式進行本地化”。搜狐影視版權總監馬可看來,
歐美真人秀節目當中,我們看到更多的是放大衝突、放大殘酷性,用現在講的流行詞語就是“撕”。但中國模式本土化、內容本土化上受到韓國影響,相對展示的是更具戲劇性與和諧性,沒有太大的邏輯衝突、利益關係。
話題二,未來中國模式一定重素人,但現在不是
最 近幾天,真人秀限令傳聞頗多,尤其是對“明星富人俱樂部”這一現象,娛樂資本論就知道引發了不少保守主義者的反感。對此,俞杭英表示,目前還沒有接到正式 通知,跑男第二季節目依然在緊張的後期製作中。至於第三季跑男被傳將挪至明年上,她表示還沒有確定,“不過馬上就知道了。”
其實,國內真 人秀的明星費用一直被業界感慨過高,俞杭英說:“不止‘跑男’有這個現象,我們論壇中也說到很多大型戶外真人秀拿明星作為主要參與者,這已經是普遍現象 了。這個成本的確非常高,是不能承受之重,所有大型戶外真人秀製作者當然不希望這麽高額的成本中這一塊比例太高。但市場就是隻無形的手,有這個存在,那就 是很自然的事情。”
不過這一點在搜狐馬可看來,主要還是受到韓國節目模式製作的影響非常深刻:“韓國模式最突出的一個特點就是明星化,素人的節目下一步可能是一個趨勢,但現在來講市場空間不大。”
A&E 網絡中國區總經理艾德維娜·尼高也發現到,中國在做節目時明星很主要,“當前國外大多數真人秀的參加者都是素人,節目作用和收視率也都極好,但依托廣告掙 錢的中國電視台這麽做就不可,節目隻要有明星加盟廣告商才情願資助,這是中國市場和世界市場很大的不一樣”。
《年代秀》的模式方DRG現 在與深圳衛視協作了《加油吧新郎!》,原版中這檔以新郎為新娘打造定製婚禮的節目模式由素人參加,但中國版就加入了每期約請一位明星參加新郎的婚禮策劃並 擔任婚禮證婚人,DRG首席執行官傑瑞米·福克斯表明這是一個很有意思的學習過程,“任何模式到了一個全新的國家都是不可能直接照搬的,咱們的經曆是在中 國找到靠譜的協作夥伴,並習慣中國的明星需求”。
話題三,用戶參與感是互聯網的核心,但技術手段不是
每年當中國電視人去參加戛納的“Mip Formats”時,都會感受到歐洲電視人強烈的變革,尤其是今年更是將“互聯網+”玩到了極致。
確實,新媒體時代網絡技術和數字技術的發展,為電視節目帶來了無限發展空間,各種媒介的相互疊加與結合日益增強,這既是對電視節目的挑戰,也是對電視節目內容創新的促進。那麽,所謂的“互聯網+”,對節目模式意味著什麽?
還 是以歐洲為例,DoriMedia首席執行官Nadav Palti表示,他們很早就嗅出互聯網將會帶給人們生活方式的變化。08年Dori在以色列推出了一個產品,觀眾可以來選擇在電視節目裏麵發生什麽情況。 有點像“老大哥”節目的類似模式。24小時裏麵每個觀眾都可以通過互聯網、手機投票決定最後的結果和走向。而《New York》是專門犯罪題材電視劇,一共三季,每季50集。Dori 通過社交媒體、互聯網、facebook等讓受眾參與進來,觀眾甚至可以參與到警察對主角審訊的過程中,通過用戶在互聯網、遊戲等各方麵參與來提升活躍 度。從2011年起,公司就為互聯網量身定製節目內容。
而來自瑞典的DRG,則給出了不少數據:
瑞典在過去的一年,免費電視台收視率已經下降了14%。
瑞典每一個上網的網民,其在網上花的時間是電視的兩倍。
互聯網的黃金時間主要集中在工作時間,從技術上來講,要對廣告做一些重新的安排。
目 前,電視熒屏還麵臨一個新的競爭對手:手機。其碎片化、社交化的特征,更為複雜和深刻地改變著青年一代。傳統媒體的使用是被動接受,網絡是主動搜索,而在 手機上的刷屏、分享取代了前兩者,需要以精煉的內容和互動體驗滿足受眾。Nadav Palti介紹了一個名為“自拍挑戰”的節目,兩組挑戰者需要完成一些高難度自拍任務,通過網絡回傳,其中一些拍攝動作可以由觀眾指定。這是一個能把數種 媒體相融合的節目模式,已經在數十個國家落地並獲得成功。
而馬可認為,要關注的不是“屏幕”,而是屏幕後麵的人。互動元素、技術手段都不是最核心的要素,依然“內容為王”,誰的節目能迅速匹配屏幕背後的用戶口味,誰就贏下這一城。
未來中國模式怎麽走?先去戛納定製,再集納資源建立模式工廠
近一年來,中國節目市場的火熱也引起了海外的關注,就連小娛這個電視邊緣人都差點去了戛納電視節。
從2013年起,戛納電視節還專門設立中國電視節目模式現狀與趨勢研討會,但據樂正傳媒研發與谘詢總監彭侃介紹,中國同行對於模式版權的引進逐漸謹慎,以學習交流為主,真正談成的模式引進少了。
“我 們已經將韓國模式買空了,下一步怎麽辦?”華策愛奇藝影視公司CEO杜昉提出,“中國電視人不缺創意,但目前的市場和平台隻認引進模式,這需要從政策層麵 引導。”馬忠君則認為,世熙傳媒在上海節首創“模式日”活動是一種風向標,“過去中國電視人去戛納買模式,完全是買手的感覺,這兩年已經慢慢發展成定製方 向,去戛納商談資源。其實,離中國電視市場最近的地方不在國外,上海電視節應該成為中國電視人建立自己模式工廠的開端。”
此外,美國 A+E Networks 副總裁和中國區總經理區詠卿則主張,不僅模式進入中國時要進行本土化,而且從中國走出去時也需要做一些本土化,“中國的模式在情感上麵比較重視”。CJ E&M內容部部長黃振宇表示,他正在引進一檔中國節目,但是把他移到韓國本土後,他也會進行本土化,將節目焦點置換。
《Stratfor Global Intelligence》
Decade Forecast: 2015-2025
February 23, 2015
This is the fifth Decade Forecast published by Stratfor. Every five years since 1996 (1996, 2000, 2005, 2010 and now, 2015) Stratfor has produced a rolling forecast. Overall, we are proud of our efforts. We predicted the inability of Europe to survive economic crises, China's decline and the course of the U.S.-jihadist war. We also made some errors. We did not anticipate 9/11, and more important, we did not anticipate the scope of the American response. But in 2005 we did forecast the difficulty the United States would face and the need for the United States to withdraw from its military engagements in the Islamic world. We predicted China's weakness too early, but we saw that weakness when others were seeing the emergence of an economy larger than that of the United States. Above all, we have consistently forecast the enduring power of the United States. This is not a forecast rooted in patriotism or jingoism. It derives from our model that continues to view the United States as the pre-eminent power.
We do not forecast everything. We focus on the major trends and tendencies in the world. Thus, we see below some predictions from our 2010 Decade Forecast:
We see the U.S.-jihadist war subsiding. This does not mean that Islamist militancy will be eliminated. Attempts at attacks will continue, and some will succeed. However, the two major wars in the region will have dramatically subsided if not concluded by 2020. We also see the Iranian situation having been brought under control. Whether this will be by military action and isolation of Iran or by a political arrangement with the current or a successor regime is unclear but irrelevant to the broader geopolitical issue. Iran will be contained, as it simply does not have the underlying power to be a major player in the region beyond its immediate horizons.
The diversity of systems and demographics that is Europe will put the European Union's institutions under severe strain. We suspect the institutions will survive. We doubt that they will work very effectively. The main political tendency will be away from multinational solutions to a greater nationalism driven by divergent and diverging economic, social and cultural forces. The elites that have crafted the European Union will find themselves under increasing pressure from the broader population. The tension between economic interests and cultural stability will define Europe. Consequently, inter-European relations will be increasingly unpredictable and unstable.
Russia will spend the 2010s seeking to secure itself before the demographic decline really hits. It will do this by trying to move from raw commodity exports to process commodity exports, moving up the value chain to fortify its economy while its demographics still allow it. Russia will also seek to reintegrate the former Soviet republics into some coherent entity in order to delay its demographic problems, expand its market and above all reabsorb some territorial buffers. Russia sees itself as under the gun, and therefore is in a hurry. This will cause it to appear more aggressive and dangerous than it is in the long run. However, in the 2010s, Russia's actions will cause substantial anxiety in its neighbors, both in terms of national security and its rapidly shifting economic policies.
The states most concerned — and affected — will be the former satellite states of Central Europe. Russia's primary concern remains the North European Plain, the traditional invasion route into Russia. This focus will magnify as Europe becomes more unpredictable politically. Russian pressure on Central Europe will not be overwhelming military pressure, but Central European psyches are finely tuned to threats. We believe this constant and growing pressure will stimulate Central European economic, social and military development.
China's economy, like the economies of Japan and other East Asian states before it, will reduce its rate of growth dramatically in order to calibrate growth with the rate of return on capital and to bring its financial system into balance. To do this, it will have to deal with the resulting social and political tensions.
From the American point of view, the 2010s will continue the long-term increase in economic and military power that began more than a century ago. The United States remains the overwhelming — but not omnipotent — military power in the world, and produces 25 percent of the world's wealth each year.